To Be a Kid Again

Do you remember when you were a kid?

I remember swinging at the park,

And thinking if I could swing high enough,

I would shoot into the stratosphere,

And land in outer space.

I remember wandering through the snowfall in my back yard,

Seeing the winter wonderland as much vaster and quieter than it was,

Cinematically looking over my shoulder,

Hoping I would stumble upon a talking beaver or a faun.

I remember making my usual merperson rounds in my underwater home,

Thinking the lights in the pool were portholes to sunken ships,

Pretending the bottom of the pool was covered in coral and shells,

And that the hair rippling in my wake was longer and more golden than it was.

I remember finding a forest behind my friend’s house

And knowing it was full of magic,

But we couldn’t tell anyone about it.

It was our secret place.

I remember pretending to be a cat in my grandma’s kitchen,

Wearing a fluffy bonnet for ears and a scarf for a tail,

Eating Honey Nut Cheerios out of a bowl on the floor,

Then crawling behind the rocking chair that I claimed was my home.

I remember washing the car with Dad,

Having soapy sponge wars,

And thinking it was extra special,

When he broke out the wax.

I remember being so bored on Saturdays

That I finally convinced mom

To let us make a lemonade stand in the driveway.

No charge; tips accepted please.

I remember squeezing in a twin bed with my twin sister at night,

Already dressed in tomorrow’s school clothes,

So we could “surprise” mom in the morning.

We held the covers extra tight when she tucked us in.

I remember cow print journals,

My ballerina lunchbox with a thermos like the cool kids had,

And rearranging the books in my school desk,

So I could have room to store “treasures” inside.

I remember sitting on the musky stairs that led to Grandma’s basement,

In her beaded scarves, headpieces, and bags,

Blowing the old wooden whistle, as we wielded our paper fans,

And rode the train to a far off land.

I remember having tea parties,

With orange wafer cookies, goldfish, and blue ice cream for snacks,

Plates of scrambled eggs – the only thing we knew how to make,

And Coca-Cola in the teapot of grandma’s finest china.

I remember wishing on dandelions,

Running down grassy slopes,

Unfolding a picnic to the perfect flat spot,

And flying our kite that never seemed to want to be in the air.

I remember a life that was golden,

A life traced in a halo,

A life where I was innocent as a budding flower,

And happy was all I knew how to be.

I could jump as high as I wanted,

Run as fast as the wind,

Swing as far as the clouds,

Laugh as brightly as the sun,

And imagine as vastly as the universe.

I feel as though who I long to be now has always been there.

I just have to figure out a way to get back to it,

To that glowing, dream of a world that life used to be.

Is nostalgia so powerful,

That it overrides progression?

These fond feelings toward my childhood

Make me look at my life now,

And the lives of those older than me –

Those who still listen to the music from their time,

And dress in the same fashions,

And limit their understanding of technology –

And wonder if every moment of our lives

Is an attempt to recreate the past,

To reembrace the memories we already know,

And live in the sweet, non-progressive comfort

That these things are simple and good.

Photo

Photography: S

Pho

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